


don’t spin me a lie

by erlkoenig



Series: glass animals [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, past Vanus/Mannimarco, set about a month after ‘watch this little trick of mine’
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 07:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erlkoenig/pseuds/erlkoenig
Summary: It’s only when Sai lifts his head, glances over at Mannimarco sat alone at another table, does the elf acknowledge their scrutiny. He meets Sai’s stare over the rim of his wineglass, scarred eyebrow lifting just so, and Sai blinks first.





	don’t spin me a lie

“I don’t trust him.” Lyris says, ignores Abnur’s dig about how  _ it’s rude to stare.  _ She doesn’t care, has never cared, and dares everyone with every movement to try to  _ make _ her care. 

“Mannimarco?” Abnur’s lip curls as he pushes away his plate, still mostly untouched. “You’d be a fool if you did.”

“Varen trusts him.” Lyris says, hands gripping her tankard just a bit tighter. “Why?”

“He’s clearly found a way to de-fang him.”

It’s only when Sai lifts his head, glances over at Mannimarco sat alone at another table, does the elf acknowledge their scrutiny. He meets Sai’s stare over the rim of his wineglass, scarred eyebrow lifting just so, and Sai blinks first. 

He knows better than to challenge a wild animal right away. 

“You seem to know a lot about the mage.” Sai says, leans back in his chair to level a look at Abnur and now all eyes are on another sorcerer. “Care to elaborate?”

“I listen, I watch, I pay attention.” 

Sai snorts. “You think too highly of yourself. Varen has said that the mage was forthright about his exile from the Psijics, his necromancy, and his disagreements with the Mage’s Guild.”

“Disagreements?” Abnur laughs at that, overly loud as though he’s privy to some great secret. Sai waits, the man is a terrible gossip and it’s only a matter of time. “Having an ex-lover who would kill you sooner than look at you as the leader of a club you’re not allowed to join? I dare say disagreement is putting it mildly.”

“Shut up, Abnur.” Lyris growls, and whatever terribly clever comeback Abnur means to say is swallowed when Varen bypasses their table to sit across from Mannimarco. They talk quietly, and Varen laughs at some joke the mage tells. There’s a smirk playing at the corner of the elf’s lips, and then his gaze slides past Varen and meets Sai’s.

He didn’t know he was staring until he has to look away again.

All things considered, he hides his new obsession rather well. If he watches Mannimarco, it’s only because the others do not trust him. If he happens to run in to him in the corridors, there are only so many places to travel in the Tower that are not still being repaired. 

If he volunteers to accompany Mannimarco to chase a lead on the amulet, it’s both that Varen trusts the mage, someone has to watch his back, and making sure that his intentions are still good. 

“I promise, I’m a big boy who can take care of himself.” Mannimarco purrs, pins the mess of white hair up off of his neck, and Sai can hear the undercurrent of annoyance.

“So I’ve seen.” Sai says, and when he blinks he can see hollow eyes and muttering mouths behind his eyelids. “It never hurts to have a comrade in arms.”

“Is that what we are?” Mannimarco snaps his fingers and lights one of those rolled cigarettes he seems to be fond of, clove and tobacco smoke wreathing his head like an obscene halo. “Or are you saying that just because of Varen’s silly little nickname for our motley crew?”

“Both.” Sai says, climbing up onto his horse. 

Mannimarco makes no move to follow, takes another long drag and swipes at a bead of sweat on his forehead with his thumb. “Companion in arms would follow the pattern better, but that sounds so  _ intimate _ , don’t you think?”

Sai thinks this is the most he’s heard Mannimarco speak at one time, certainly the most words the elf has ever spoken to  _ him.  _ There’s a soft lilt to his voice, under that rough edge, the careful way that Mannimarco speaks each syllable and enunciates every word to set his voice deeper, louder. 

Sai wonders if it’s an act, wonders if there is a way to strip it away like armor and hear delicate, slanted vowels, syllables that run together breathlessly. 

“Companion in arms, then.” 

Mannimarco chokes on the inhale, spits smoke and glares up at him. Crushes his cigarette under his heel and reaches for the bridle of his own horse.

“The emperor’s swordsman is a joker,” Mannimarco mumbles, “Fantastic.” With a click, he sets off down the road.

Sai follows.


End file.
